Tarnished Grace
by vampiric.princess
Summary: Sometimes an angel falls from grace, and sometimes her grace becomes so tarnished and broken that she barely notices its there at all. But maybe with a little help from the Saints, Gods chosen, she could learn to shine once again.
1. Chapter One: Discovering Worth

_A/N: Im finally getting around to posting some ff, its been quite a long time coming and i'd like to dedicate the very first chapter to the lovable, huggable, squeezable Ashley *smoooch* Who knows if this would be here without ye' love. xo_

_Disclaimer: Unfortunately the MacManus (who aren't in this chapter sadly) are not my property. I don't own them, they respectfully belong to the brilliant Troy Duffy... but I did put them on my Christmas list, so who knows? *wink* Everything else is totally me. Enjoy._

**Chapter One; **Discovering Worth**  
**

Her pleasant dreams had slipped away a while ago. She could barely remember a time when she had slept peacefully through the entire night, that was a lie, but it had been so long that she refused to acknowledge it as so. Kara Malcolm woke up with a start, her body slick with sweat and her heart pounding, falling off of her mattress in a tangle of limbs and twisted sheets she breathed deeply.

The rain pounded down heavily outside her window shaking the glass panels. Sporadic flashes of lightning illuminated her apartment, if a tiny room with an even more minuscule kitchen and a barely there washroom, could be labeled as so. Her place was barren, the complete necessities with a mere few comforts, but better than anywhere she had lived in a long while. Sure it was a complete shithole with leaking taps and poor heating, and even though every month she barely used any electricity and hot water to save on bills, she still had to scrap cash together in order to afford it. Her job at the Tool Shack had crap pay with a perverted boss and it seemed as if her rent was the only thing that appeared to be climbing up in her life.

The carpet that filled the dingy bedroom was a grungy pale yellow, littered with numerous stains she refused to examine any closer. She hopped around those spots as she blindly made her way to the kitchen area, pulling on her father's old ratty USMC sweater. She smiled as it completely swallowed her tiny frame; it was one of her most valued possessions, being one of the only things she had to remember her father by. She stepped onto the cold gritty tile of the kitchen, feeling the chill through her large wool socks as she padded towards the counter. The kitchen, better explained as a large closet with a broken window and sparse cupboards held one of the only comforters she had allowed herself, a tiny coffee maker. Feeling for the small machine she opened the lid and poured a generous amount of grinds into the top from the tin behind it. With an afterthought she reached for a small dwindling bag beside the tin and added a spoonful of cinnamon. Turning it on, she made her way into the washroom while pulling her long dark hair into a messy bun atop her head.

Reaching the bathroom she blindly spread her hands along the expanse of the counter until her fingers came into contact with freezing metal. Holding the Zippo in her hands she flicked it on, it came alive with gentle hiss and illuminated the washroom in a soft flickering glow. She lit the candles on the counter one by one until she could finally make out a clear reflection of herself, albeit distorted through the cracked mirror before her. She leaned down onto the sink and turned on the water, without allowing for it to warm she splashed her face with the chilling water and shutting it off she grabbed a bar of soap and scrubbed her face clean.

After rinsing her face with another couple splashes of cold water she padded it dry with a soft black towel that hung on the rack behind her. It was another of the small comforts she had allowed herself to buy, a small hand towel and another large one to wrap herself in after her brief showers. Pulling out the rubber band from her hair, she straightened up and hung the small towel neatly on the edge of the sink bowl, taking a moment's pause to stare at her reflection. Her skin was light and smooth say for the healing scratches at her temple and the slight bruising along her jaw, her eyes once a dazzling emerald green had by her own account grown flat, constantly surrounded with dark circles as a result of her constant sleepless nights. Her hair was a dark with slight burgundy undertones; it was thick and uncooperative with a mind of its own, never doing quite what she wanted but somehow always a compliment to whatever outfit she wore. It hung down to the small of her back in loose barely there curls, framing her face and hiding the dark yellowish bruising along the side of her face. Her body shook under her thick sweater; she was tiny for her age with a height of 5'1 and a petite but strong toned body. She may appear to be weak, an easy target carefully taken down but as many know, things are rarely what they ever appear to be.

The buzzing of the coffee machine broke Kara from her staring and back into reality, she inhaled deeply and smiled, snatching a candle from the counter and extinguishing the rest she allowed her nose to pull her back towards the kitchen. Placing the small candle beside the coffee pot she stood up on her tiptoes and she reached inside the only somewhat occupied cupboard. It held a plate, a small bowl and purple mug she stolen from a broken down diner outside of Nashville. Her hand closed around the mug which she preceded to fill to the brim with coffee, next her hand wrenched open the only working drawer and pulled out a Ziploc baggie filled with sugar packets taken from numerous and varied fast foot joints. She emptied four into her dark coffee and swished it around before taking a generous gulp. "Fuck!" she yelped sucking in a deep breath as the scalding liquid made a quick blazing procession down the back of her throat. She coughed hoping to ease the burn at the back of her throat as she carefully made her way back to her mattress.

Sitting down she wrapped her quilt around her legs and blew on her coffee, taking careful sips as she grabbed her cell phone off the floor. Other than her apartment it was the most expensive thing she had ever bought, with her constant changing of addresses and harsh lifestyle she had deemed it a necessity. She punched in 2 for the second caller on her speed dial and had just hit send when a loud pounding shook her apartment. She snatched the switchblade for under her pillow and jumped up; walking the few steps to the door she carefully slipped the blade into the back of her pants. She cursed her lack of a peep hole as she took a deep breath to steady herself and unlocked the door. Stepping back she swung the door inwards and immediately wished she hadn't, although it wouldn't have done any good in this case, she liked to pretend she still had that option.

"Duke," she said as politely as she could, "how are you this morning?"

"Stop with the fucking pleasantries Malcolm," he grunted out, "you know why the fuck I'm here." He staggered forward a bit, resting his filthy arm against the wall to keep from swaying. He was likely still wasted from the night before or had gotten a head start this morning with a powdered snort or two. Looking at the glassy red glaze of his eyes and the dry blood caked inside his left nostril she guessed they were both quite accurate. She couldn't for the life of her understand how he could put functioning sentences together while flying that high, let alone one containing the word 'pleasantries.' As the buildings landlord he was a complete screw up, anything gone wrong was not his problem, anything broke you fixed yourself and everything else didn't matter. He did nothing but sit on his fat ass, drink anything he could get his hands on, and took whatever drug walked up to his door first. Kara didn't know how he remembers what day of the week it was let alone when rent was due but low and behold it was the only thing he was ever on top of.

She took another look at his glazed eyes and decided to risk it; she gave him a small smile and said in a quiet voice, "I'm not sure what you mean sir."

For a minute he stood there, no doubt racking his brain for the reason he had climbed up all those stairs to be standing here talking to her now. In the next instant his eyes darkened and he balled his fists at his sides, "Don't you go playin' with me y-you stupid bitch," he rasped out stumbling slightly forward into the room. "Rent, now… you owe me about," he stopped for a moment before he smiled widely; revealing what little teeth he had left, cracked and broken they were pull of plaque and a thick black substance Kara did not care to know, "$850."

Her mouth fell open, "Eight hundred and fifty fucking dollars, since when?!"

He leered at her, his eyes roaming her small frame, "Are you sayin' that you won't be payin' me this month? 'Cause ya know I can always taken it out in other ways…" He reached out a grimy had to touch her, meaty fingers and dirt caked nails grasping at air as she took a step back.

Her hand reached behind her back and underneath her sweater, her fists closing tight around the handle of the blade she had stuck there, the warmth of the blade pressing against her back was a comfort as she took a step forward, "I'll get you the money," she said her other hand closing around the door handle.

Blood trickled out of his nose as he took a step back then smiled at her, he wiped the back of his hand across his upper lip smearing the blood across his face, "I best be gettin' it tonight," he said walking backwards down the hall, "'Cause one way or the other I'll be collecting rent tonight… in full." With that he stumbled around the corner and out sight, and Kara wished with everything she had that he'd barrel straight down those stairs and break his fucking neck.

She closed the door behind her and locked it; walking back over to her mattress she grabbed her phone and stared at the numbers. For a split second she considered pressing 3, the speed dial for the Tool Shack but dismissed it as quickly as it had appeared, there was no way her sleazy boss Richard would give her any money in advance. Her finger lingered over 2 for a moment, but once again she dismissed it, Lacie didn't have the kind of money to lend her and there was no sense making her feel bad about it. Finally her finger reached 4 and she hit send. It rang a few times before a young guy answered, "It's the Office. You got Nicky."

"Hey Nick, its Kay. Could I talk to Louie?"

"Kay," he said laughed into the phone, "It's almost getting to be like clockwork, huh?"

She almost wanted to chuck the phone at the wall, like she ever needed a reminder, "Just hand me over to Louie, Nicky. I'm not in the mood for any of your shit today."

"Oh, testy today aren't we princess?" he laughed once again before muffling the phone with what she guessed was his hand, and shouted something across the room in swift garbled Italian.

There was a small click, then silence before a smooth voice took over the line, "Kay, Buongiorno bella, what can I do ya for today?"

"Ciao Louie, I need in tonight."

"I don' know bella, it's pretty last minute. I'm not sure we've got any available slots tonight."

She took a quick moment to panic then stopped, he was fucking with her. She was gold around there and she knew it, "Comon' Louie, you know the crowd loves me. I'm sure you squeeze me in somewhere. I…I need this."

He must have heard the small glitch of desperation in her voice because she could almost hear the shit eating grin on his face through his next words, "Well, I should be able to squeeze you in tonight but… with all the rearranging and recallin' it'll need to be worth it bella…" he trailed off, probably for nothing more than dramatic effect but when he didn't continue right away, she knew he wanted her to ask him.

"What's the worth, Louie?"

"Well, I'll have to think it out… recalculate costs… reclaim a few here an there…"

She wanted to reach her hands through the phone and choke him to death, better yet run over there now and do it nice and slow, up close where she could see the vibrant purple his face was sure to turn. Instead she gritted her teeth and ground out, "The worth, Louie."

He cleared his throat again, a deep guttural sound that almost made her ears bleed, "Sorry bella, got lost in tha' business there… It'll cost ya four. My terms and the nights I choose… take it or leave it."

Once again she fought down the rage, bottled it and tucked it away for later. She took a deep breath to calm to pounding in her ears and choked out, "Deal." It's not like she had any other choice.

She was just about to disconnect the call when Louie cleared his throat again, "And principessa, try and look you're best for me tonight eh? I got some important clients comin' in and I'll need to give 'em a real show." Click.

Hands shaking she dropped her phone, she glanced down and saw she still gripped her switchblade tight within her fist, knuckles straining white again the skin. Pulling her arm back she flung it and with a satisfying metallic clunk it dug itself into her wall.

_A/N: Please review, i'll upload faster... and the boys are in the next chapter. xo_

_For those who may not know;_

_Buongiorno = Italian for 'good morning'_

_bella = Italian for 'beautiful'_

_principessa = Italian for 'princess'_


	2. Chapter Two: Liquid Courage

_**A/N:** Yay! Another chapter so soooon. This one from the boys perspective, i hope i did them justice! hugs&smoochies!_

_Disclaimer: Nope, i still dont own then devilishly charmin' MacManus brothers. They belong rightfully to Troy Duffy... but im still hoping and wishing on stars*_

**Chapter Two;** Liquid Courage

ConnorxMurphy

"Are ye sure this is a good idea?" Connor asked, momentarily looking up from lacing his boots.

"Aye. We've been fuckin' tailin' him for weeks, Con." His brother Murphy answered from his position at the kitchen table, not once glancing up from the numerous guns laid out before him.

"Way ta state the fuckin' obvious," Connor said. Standing up he reached for his shirt, pulling it over his head, he carefully tucked his black rosary underneath and walked towards the kitchen, "jus' brilliant ye are, Murph."

Taking a quick glance up from his work, Murphy smirked, "I like ta think tha' it's the tone of me voice and tha' careful expressions on me face tha' really give it tha' somethin' extra."

Walking towards the cupboard he smacked the back of Murphy's head before opening the door and grabbing a mug.

"Oi, fuckin' watch it will ye?! I'm only cleanin' our fuckin' guns here, don' wanna accidentally blow yer fuckin' brains out," Murphy yelled pulling the shaft back and letting it loose with a loud click. He pushed his chair back and turned to stare at his brother, "Look Con, he's been disappearing in ta the warehouse for a good week an a half now, his visits always getting' longer and more offen," he refilled his coffee mug and added a generous portion of milk and a touch of sugar. Leaning against the counter, he wrinkled his nose at his brothers black coffee before he continued, "If we're ta get the bastard we got ta figure out wha' the fuck he's doing in there. I'm guessin' its some kind a bar or somethin' people are always comin' and goin'…" he paused then smiled. "Comon' Charlie what about if I get ye a nice bundle of fuckin' rope… will ye feel better about it then?"

Murphy knew to duck out of the way of Connors fist this time and laughed.

"Always with the fuckin' bloody rope…" Connor mumbled before draining the rest of his coffee. He glanced down at the time on the stove and then up at Murphy, "If we're ta be there before 'im, then we better get ta fuckin' move on."

It was just beginning to grow dark when the twins stepped out of their apartment, identical black pea coats, blue jeans and black boots adorning their feet. Each had a gun tucked away in an inside pocket of their jackets and blade somewhere on their person just to be safe. It was purely a sit and watch type of mission, an up close stakeout and it made Connor uneasy. He felt to open and exposed, like the whole world was watching and what if things went wrong? What if they were walking straight into a trap? He calmed his thoughts by thinking of all the people they'd seeing constantly coming and going from the warehouse all week. Sure it would be packed and full to the brim with civilians, but he still didn't like going in blind. He'd rather have his silencer, rope and ski mask while breaking into the house of drug lord in the middle of the fucking afternoon to be perfectly honest.

A light metallic snap broke him out of his thoughts as Murphy lit up two cigarettes beside him, handing him one, his brother took a long drag before cocking his head to look at Connor. "If it makes you feel at all calmer about it, I'm a little fuckin' jittery about this meself. I'd sooner rather be sweatin' me fuckin' ass off, toting yer thirty fuckin' pound stupid rope around a wee little shaft, then walkin' in ta there with not but our guesswork."

They stopped as they came to street across from the warehouse, taking a moment to finish their smokes as they watched the people milling around outside. Dropping the burning end to the ground Connor crushed it under the heel of his boot, looking over at his brother he grinned, "So do ye want me ta pick ye up a nice piece of rope next time were out?"

Murphy laughed and pushed his brother across the street, following beside him. Reaching the line beside the door the brother made their way to the end, following the procession of scantily clad girls on the arms of pimped out men in blazers, groups of foreign thugs jabbering excitedly in a haze of drunken languages and doped up guys with their perfectly coiffed hair, fake tans and gold chains. Finding their way to the back they stood behind a jumpy looking guy, scrawny in his polo and jean jacket he stood with his hands in his pockets, eyes staring down at his scuffed up Air Force Ones. Feeling the eyes of the bouncer as it had followed them from across the street, Murphy tapped him on the shoulder. Nearly jumping out of his skin the guy pulled his hand out of his pocket and leant it against the brick wall to stop from falling, eyes wide and glassy he stared at the brothers. Giving Connor a quick glance, Murphy eyed the shaking guy, clearly a yearning junkie, "Didn't mean ta startle ye, was jus' wonderin' if ye had a light," he asked pulling his pack of smokes out of his pocket.

"Oh, ah-ahhh sure, n-n-no problem," he said reaching a shaky hand into his pocket and pulled out a cheap plastic lighter. Fumbling with it for a few seconds he gave up and threw it at Murphy. Taking the two smokes out of the pack he lit them up and handed one to Connor. Looking up he offered the pack to Mr. Jittery, "Is only fair," he smiled shaking the pack.

The guy stared at him for a few seconds before looking around him; he cracked his neck to the side before reaching out a dry, shaking hand and pulling a smoke from the pack. Finally lighting it up after a few false tries he took a long deep drag. Letting out a sigh he smiled at the brothers, "Thanks man that just about h-hits the spot." He looked about ready to turn around when he seemed to reconsider the notion and looked down, shuffling his feet. Taking another deep drag he looked up and cleared his throat, "I'm James, but you c-can call me Jimmy," he smiled crookedly through yellow teeth, "e-everyone else d-d-does."

"Murph," he said, jerking his thumb towards his brother, "and this is me brother, Connor."

Connor nodded at Jimmy as they moved up a couple of spots and leant back against the brick wall.

"So, d-do you have any g-good bets set up for t-tonight?" he stuttered out.

Connor looked at Murphy then back at Jimmy, "Well, we were jus' go—"

"Take in the look of b-both sides first, huh? Place yo-you're bets last minute?" he interrupted Connor, then continued without giving either of them the chance to answer, "With that l-last m-m-minute change about, it's probably the best thing to do tonight. Who the fuck knows what they g-got tucked up their sleeves t-tonight, eh?"

Connor took the last deep drag of his cigarette and let out a small sigh of relief, never more happier then he was at the point to have been interrupted. With the fuckin' vibrant look of glee sprawled across Murphy's face he guessed that had been his master plan all along. Make nice with the hunched over jittery loner and get him to talk, it was smart and it had worked. He only wished he had fuckin' thought of it first.

They moved up again almost to the door and mirroring Murphy, Connor dropped his burnt out cigarette and crushed it under his boot. "Aye, we we're wonderin' what was up with tha' last minute switch up, figured it would be makin' more sense to wait it out till we got 'ere."

"I just w-wish I had had the same sense. But my bets were already p-played and you know how the Office is," Jimmy said offhandedly, handing the bouncer a crumpled up bill. The bouncer eyed the twins, eyes unreadable behind dark sunglasses but he waved them through after Connor pulled out two twenty's from inside his coat.

Loud rap music blared out from massive speakers littered around the inside of the warehouse. All one entire colossal room, they followed Jimmy to what appeared to be a bar area. Plopping down on some empty stools they waved the bartender over. A couple moments later he was leaning over the counter towards them, "What can I do you for, boys?" He was an older man with a plump face and head full of wiry grey hair, though he seemed nice enough he had a slightly harsh look about him, a look that clearly mean he was not to be fucked with.

"Oi, ye don' happen ta have any Guinness on tap, now do ye?" Murphy asked pleasantly, shouting over the roar of the music to be heard.

The bartenders face lit up, "Finally! Some lads that can drink! Of course I've got some on tap… more than enough really, this crowd usually leans to the shittier stuff." He poured them a couple pints before dropping a basket of pretzels in front of them and moving down the bar with a grungy rag in his hand, yelling at a younger guy who had his hand leaning over the side bar, no doubt reaching for a bottle of something.

"I like 'im already," Murphy said, taking a gulp of his drink. His slight resemblance to Doc making them feel more at ease.

Connor nodded in agreement as they both turned on their stools to survey the rest of the room. The place was packed with people, one side of the room held the bar that stretched out with a few dozen tables, all occupied with groups of rowdy people. Tucked around the back corner of the wall sat a bunch of black leather couches and smaller tables on a raised platform, a sheer curtain wrapped around it, no doubt giving the occupants a small semblance of privacy. Spread out through the room were scantily clad girls, all in black leather, atop platforms and hanging from ceiling cages. Staring at a girl suspended in a cage nearest to him, Murphy cocked his head to the side and said, "Ye know I'm not quite sure whether ta be enticed or a wee bit disgusted from tha'…"

Jimmy jumped in beside him, "I know r-right? All the tight leather, ch-chains and cages, not to mention the deadly high p-platforms around the room, it's hot… but kinda twisted at the same time."

A huge portion of the other side of the room, dipped low in multiple inverted platforms, the biggest crowds gathered around those, shouting and screaming while they danced along to the pounding beat. The farthest side of the room was almost completely empty, a large rectangular area surrounded by velvet carpets and encased within a fence of short steel beams. From what the boys could see an entire side held what appeared to bleachers, and lush top boxes hung from the highest walls. The twins looked at one another in silent agreement; whatever was going down around here, it seemed the main entertainment would most definitely be enclosed at the back.

"Look at tha' fuckin' velvet on the top boxes," Murphy said leaning forward as he drained the last of his beer.

"Aye, ye'd think they we're gettin' ready to see the fuckin' Opera or somethin'…" Connor finished, turning around to grab a hand full of pretzels.

He was jostled from the side when a small body collided with his, spilling what was left of his beer, "Fuck," he snapped, pounding his empty glass down on the table with a bang as Murphy cracked up beside him.

A small warm hand made its way on to his shoulder and a melodic voice washed over his ears, "Shit, I'm really sorry, looked like that was Guinness too… "

More pressured was applied to his shoulder as she leaned most of her petite body on to the bar and tossed a black bag over the ledge, "Bobby, can I get a refill of Guinness down here," she shouted down the bar. Connor turned towards the voice and was met with a pair of bright green eyes as she turned back to glance at him. She was tiny, sitting on the bar counter her presence not disrupting anything. From what he could see of her from beneath her dark tresses, she was beautifully angelic. His anger gone in an instant as he forgot his spilt drink and the sopping wet knee of his jeans.

The old bartender, Bobby it seemed was his name, sauntered down at the sight of her. A mix of emotions crossed his face, surprise, understanding, anger until he finally settled on happy to see her. "Kay, I'm surprised to see you here again… so soon," a hopeful look crossed his face, "just here for a drink?"

She gave him a small sad smile, "I wish I was," she said and motioned to the bag at his feet, "You can look after my bag for me?"

"Oh course, sweetheart, I always do… Now," he said his tone turning more jovial, "What was this about a Guinness?"

A slight blush met her cheeks as Murphy laughed once more, "Well I kinda spilled uhh…" she said gave Connor a side glance, eyebrows raised in question.

He gave a light chuckle, "Connor," he supplied for her.

A slight look of shock and confusion crossed her face for a fleeting moment, there and gone so fast, it almost seemed he had imagined it. She gave a slight shake of her head and continued, "I spilled, Connor here's, drink reaching over the bar, and he'll be needing a refill… on my tab of course."

Bobby let out a barking laugh as he filled Connor's empty mug, which caused Murphy to stop his laughing, a slight scowl appearing on his face as he eyed Connor's foaming glass.

A tinkling laugh filled the air as the girl leaned over Connor and pushed Murphy's glass forward her hair brushing his face, "Fill her up too, Bobby."

Murphy grinned at her before reaching his tongue out to lick a spot of foam slowly making its way down his glass. Turning her gaze back to Connor she smiled. A tingling of warmth spread out through Connors back as he realized her hand still rested there, helping her keep her balance from her place atop the bar. A light scent of vanilla caught his nose before she leaned back in her designated spot.

The crackling of the speakers and the quieting of music singled out the coming announcement. Looking over at Bobby, the girl picked up a shot glass up from behind the bar and set it on the table, "That's my call."

The boys looked at each other questionably, each at a loss for words as they turned back to the scene in front of them. Bobby pulled out a bottle of whiskey from somewhere beneath the bar and held it in front of her, "Do you even know the terms tonight?" At the shake of her head he sighed, "I better make this a double then."

"Well, bottoms up," she said softly downing the shot glass.

Connor looked over at her, studying her pale face, "What's that for now, darlin'?"

"Courage."

"Courage…?" he repeated mystified.

"Liquid courage," she said after a moment's pause.

The crackling of the speakers stopped as the music died down completely and a large booming voice made its way across the speakers, echoing off walls in the large warehouse, "Ten minutes till the main event," washed over the crowd before the same words were repeated rapidly in a mix of other languages.

The music came back on at a much lower volume as the crowd made its way to the far wall. The beautiful girl hopped down from atop the bar and with one last look at Bobby and the boys she turned disappearing into the scrambling crowd.

The boys sat there stunned for a few moments before turning back to Bobby, "What tha' fuck was tha' all about now?" Murphy questioned as Connor sat beside, him seemingly lost in thought.

Almost forgotten beside them, Jimmy spoke up, "If I'm n-not mistaken, that would b-be Kay. Seems she t-the main event tonight then," looking down at his slips he swore, "that was t-t-the fucking switch! I'm going to l-l-lose e-everything!" with that he took off into the dwindling mass of bodies.

Connor turned towards Murphy, a confused look on his face, "Do we know tha' lass from somewhere?"

Murphy stared at him, thinking hard, "Aye, we could. I don' know fer sure but there's something damn familiar about 'er."

Turning back to the bar, Bobby let out a deep sigh, "It's a mighty damn shame, is what it is," he muttered running a rag along the bar.

"Fuck, what's everyone goin' on about now?!" Murphy cursed but Bobby was already down the other side of the bar, collecting glasses and refilling pretzel bowls.

"I've no idea, but I sure as fuckin' ell am goin' to figure it tha' fuck out," he said walking determinably into the crowd, his shoulder still ablaze with the memory of her soft touch.

_**A/N;** Please review and lemme know what you thought :) xo's_  
_ -- a review is a review no mattter how small. Every little teeny tiny bit is welcome, i'd **love **to hear from you guys! Mostly to make sure its being read :)_


	3. Chapter Three: Pleading

_**A/N;** So originally this chapter was not supposed to end where it did, but the story kinda twisted out of my grasp a little and developed into a bit more. Think a Pokemon evolvin or something, still the same, **just a level up. **Haha. Great analogy there. I'll try hard to get the next chapter up soon, i'm writing it right now :) BUT like i said, mind of its own. If not up today, ill try to get it up tomorrow morning, which is **ST. PADDYS DAY** btw :D i love being Irish. Hahaa, well enough blabbering ON WITH THE STORY. [Speaking of Irish, unfortunately the twins arnt in the chapter, originally they were supposed to be, but then the evolution and yeah... sorry :( it made me sadder then you can imagine] _

_Disclaimer: I dont think anything in this chapter here really belongs to anyone but me but what the hell... Boondock Saints belongs to Troy Duffy! He will forever hold my eternal gratitude. Kisses!_

_Dedication: Id also like to dedicate this story to Bells. My bestfriend and cousin. Shes away and i miss her quite alot. Come back please. xo  
_

**Chapter Three;** Pleading

KaraMalcolm

Kara pushed through the crowd, heart pounding to the ticking clock and head still reeling with thoughts of spilt Guinness. She made her way to the side wall and through a restricted door, down a stone hallway and into large room. Sitting down Kara tried to still the thunderous noise beating beneath her chest; taking a deep breath she stretched her arms above her head.

The room was large; it held a couple bathroom stalls, some benches and a few showers. A full length mirror ran the length of one wall, complete with balance bar, and tucked away on the opposite side stood a couple of weights, a punching bag and an old water fountain. It reminded her of her high school locker room along with a touch of her old ballet studio, besides the overall dirt that clouded every surface. The walls were dark with peeling strips of yellow paint still visible, the mirror was cracked in places and the bench was partly rotted through at one end. Everything seemed odd and out of place as if it had all just been thrown together in a moment's hesitation, the thing that tied it all together, made it fit, was the blood. The smears on the walls were varied, caked and clouded along with fresh splatters. It covered the cement floor, streaking down in rivers towards the single drain in the center of the room. There were varying shades of red fingerprints scattered aimlessly across sinks and bathroom stalls. A couple of the shower walls and curtains seemed to be stained red but she stayed clear of those, always pulling them shut the moment she stepped in. She had forgotten today. Skin prickling along her spine, the stains screamed at her, polluting her mind and infecting her senses.

But the worse thing about that back room was the smell. It crept up along her spine and settled at the base of her neck, unfurling like talons it slowly choked her. It was a thick coppery taste at the back of her tongue, damp and rotted, it assaulted her senses. Her mouth thick and her head clouded she swayed slightly from her position on the bench, ears ringing with silent echoes. Beneath her eyelids, images danced across her mind, thoughts of streaked tears and empty eyes twirling beneath opened wounds. She shuddered to think how many red fingerprints decorating the room were her own.

A knock came at the door causing Kara to jump, it creaked open and a curly dark haired guy stuck his head in. A stupid grin filled his face, "Two minutes princess," he said eyeing her up and down slowly. Her mind grated against the molesting eyes, boundaries already lowered the tiny assault reverberated through her body. She stood up shooting him a dark scathing look and immediately he straightened and turned, the door closing behind him in a resonating bang. She gave her legs a good stretch and turned to the sink, resting her hands on the sink to still there shaking, she gave herself a onceover. Her eyes were dark and smoky, smudged with kohl eyeliner and lashes thick with mascara. She done her best to cover the light bruising along her jaw and it was nearly invisible, and with her cheeks dusted with a shimmery pink blush she looked almost perfect. Any other night she would have been pleased with her work but now it just made her sick. She wore a pair of fitted black yoga pants and a simple black tank top; it would help her move, keep her fast and fluid. She didn't wear any jewelry; they weighed her down and just got in the way, not to mention that rings usually weren't allowed anyways.

She knelt down to tighten her black trainers, her silver nails sparkling even in the dim light. It was something she had done on whim, she'd seen the nail polish at a drugstore a couple months back while shopping with her best friend Lacie. Who had practically forced her to the counter with it, going on and on about how perfectly it matched her metallic silver leather jacket. She had to admit Lacie was right; she had worn it tonight but had tucked it away in her bag the moment she stepped inside the warehouse. If only it was any other night. She smiled at the thought; Lacie would have taken one look at her before running to grab her own metallic jack and accessorizing them both. 'Best friends are supposed to match,' she'd say. Her face hardened and she violently shook her head, thrusting the thought to the deepest recesses of her mind, next to spilt Guinness and half remembered faces. Those thoughts were no use to her now, deadly even. Without her mind fully concentrated she would be dead in the next hour.

She eased the green elastic off her wrist as she pulled her hair into a high ponytail, she would much rather it in a tight bun where it couldn't whip at her, but this was the way Louie liked it. Pulled back to show her pretty face but still a tangle of silky tresses down her back, it would be nothing but a hindrance. But a deal was a deal.

She lifted her mental barriers around her, shutting out the echoes, the doubts and rising vomit that threatened to tear through her. Pulling it up high she wrapped it around her, sealing her mind and pushing every thought into tight bottles. Locking them tight she tucked them away, her last thought the same as it always was, that shaking fear that she wouldn't live to pull them back out again. Feeling the emptiness settle in around her she took one last look at herself, eyes hard and jaw set with cold determination, she turned away from the mirror and walked towards the door, ponytail swishing back and forth behind her.

Walking down the stone corridor, hands curled into fists by her side and head held high, she stepped out into the warehouse. The loud music had been turned off for the time being but the crowd filled in the emptiness with its own thunderous roar.

A screaming of numbers and shouting were reaching for her at every angle, a last minute clamoring of bets to be recorded. She felt like a groomed animal at a prize show or a thoroughbred horse on the tracks, it was she who would determine their odds.

She made her way along the side of the barrier, arm resting on the cold metal it helped to keep her grounded and focused. She made her way to a small secluded bench directly beside the steel beams of the barrier. Sitting down beside a fresh towel, she noticed a rolled note sitting on top. Unfurling it she gritted her teeth,

_"Remember to smile principessa.  
-Louie"_

She wanted nothing more than to twist it beyond recognition and crush it beneath her feet, but she knew better and he was watching. It would be a violation of respect that she would most certainly pay for later. She gently placed it back on the bench beside her and forced herself to smile and sit up straight, hands placed docile in her lap. Her eyes moved to rest on the large rectangular space enclosed within the beams before her, eyes boring holes into the ground she waited to hear her terms along with the rest of the bubbling crowd.

Not before long another announcement sounded, urging those with seats to take them and calming the crowd into a gargle of whispers. Kara stood up as the announcer introduced her, "The Lovely K," it called her and the crowed hollered and catcalled, she wanted nothing more than to retch. She took her place before a hidden gate and waited, her eyes cast on the opposite end, ears straining for the next announcement.

"And in the opposite corner we have, Il Nero Fantasma."

The Black Phantom.

A large man stepped up to the gate across from hers. The crowd began screaming with apparent glee, there thunderous applause begging for violence, screaming for a bloodbath. A request that was sure to be answered, a dark dream waltzing across an open stage.

Kara stared at the man, absorbing ever detail she could make out from her position across the way. He was large and thick with meat, a good deal of muscle framing his crushing arms beneath his light blue t-shirt, his jogging pants looked baggy and thick, no doubt he had been going for style, it was his first mistake. His hair was a light brown; it was long and slightly wavy, the ends curling around his ears and bangs falling expertly into his eyes. Mistake number two, he'd be constantly brushing it out of his eyes. His face was handsome, a light smattering of hair dusted his chin and a bright smile was plastered across his face reaching all the way up to his twinkling eyes. A first timer. A small shine caught her attention and she stared at the side of his face, there it was again, a small glint of light. Mistake number three. Dangling from his ear appeared to be a small earring, a fang or cross she guessed, or perhaps a chili pepper those Italians seemed so found of.

He caught her gaze roaming his and winked at her much to the crowd's enjoyment, puckering his lips in a flashy kiss. She wondered what had driven him here, desperation? Or glory? Given his boisterous attitude and carefully calculated appearance she suspected the latter. He wooed the crowd, waving and grinning he blew kisses at the female ratio while part of the male crowd cheered for him the rest still held there gaze on her.

She shook out her arms, loosening her tense posture. What was taking them so long? She wanted to see her terms; she couldn't start ensuring her survival until she saw the rest of what she was up against. Rotating her neck she froze mid way when the floor within the space began retracting, a loud grinding noise filled the warehouse and she held breath along with the rest of the crowd. Heart pounding beneath her chest she placed a hand there to calm it and she leaned over the barrier. She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe, willing herself to relax but a whirlwind of images were reeling across her mind. Each one battling for dominance within the enclosed space, flashing vibrantly in front of her eyes in perfect detail before rushing out and allowing another to take its place.

She witnessed all the terms she had ever seen within the arena. Tucked away in that corner of the warehouse was The Arena, the pride and joy of The Office, it was Louie's baby, the big money maker it was always packed. One corner was stuck right against the walls were Kara stood now, her back facing concrete. Above her head were the prime spots, top boxes only the elite could afford, draped with yards of red velvet and topped with golden satin, it was lavishly comfortable. The opposite corner was open to the audience, the small side holding a stack of rising bleachers and the longer amass of bodies, clamoring over the railings for a better view. The railings were a short horizontal fence of steel beams, similar in style to those surrounding a boxing ring. The apparent floor was false, a retractable lid hiding the real entertainment, the grand Arena below. Beneath it was a 3 foot deep concrete pit where the terms would be laid out, each time a waiting surprise. The basic pit was filled with a layer of sand, a crowd favorite, a torch to the gladiator days of old. But many a times it changed sometimes high logs speared across, making you duck and jump as you fought off the coming attacks. Once Kara had seen a twisted net of ropes suspended over the ground, both men fighting to keep balance should they slip through the open rope and on to the harsh rocks that had been placed below. There were a few times when along with the floor retracting a cage would come down from above, sealing the occupants inside, sometimes fierce spikes outlining the walls. Just once Kara engaged in a cage match, but it wasn't the walls she had been worried about at the time. Two twelve foot logs had been suspended from the ceiling of the cage and Kara had to keep her balance whilst fending off her attacker.

The deciding of terms also involved what you were left to defend yourself with. A lot of the time both opponents were left with nothing but their own fists but many a times other things were thrown into the mix. Bo staffs or knives, steel pipes and chains, each contestant with the same tool. Once in a while it was left to a random draw of the hat, a sure fire crowd favorite. Each drew a slip of paper out of a hat and scrawled on it was the weapon or defense you were stuck with, no switches or redraws. The worst thing about it was the fact that a good deal of the time contestants were left unbalanced, the draw granting one an advantage over the other. Those fights were brutal, Kara shuddered thinking back to when a draw had given one man a sledge hammer and the other was left defenseless, the arena had been painted with blood. She silently pleaded with whatever god was listening that that wouldn't be the case tonight.

She drew in another shaking breath then let out; in and out she took slow deep breaths until her body stilled its shaking. At the gasping of the crowd she knew that the floor was retracted almost to completion, eyes still closed she forced herself to remain calm. A light whooshing sound met her ears and her brow furrowed as the crowd roared their approval. She slowly opened her eyes, her gaze drifting over the now visible arena floor. This was going to be a bitch, she thought.

_**A/N;** I know, i know. I'm sorry for that, like i said it wasnt originally supposed to end here. I was GOING to continue but then the chapter would have been UBER long and you wouldnt have seen anything for quite awhile. I'm just thinking of you guys here. Forgive me? xo's_

**Review please. Ranting and yelling is welcome.**


	4. Chapter Four: Thanks for That

_**A/N;** Finally i know! Things were ridiculously crazy the past couple days with work and St. Paddys. BUT, that chapter is almost twice as long as usual :) the longest chapter to date, YAY ME! I'd like to thank all those who reviewed, a shout going out to _eXsTorDiNaRiLy InViSiBlE, SilverGhostKitsune, _omgvampires and_ You May Call Me Goddess _for their words of love and encouragement, so here's to you!XO_

_I hope everyone enjoys! Onwards...  
_

_Disclaimer: The MacManus Twins rightfully belong to Troy Duffy... though that doesnt stop me from playing with them. *wink*_

**Chapter Four;** Thanks for That

KaraMalcolm

_A light whooshing sound met her ears and her brow furrowed as the crowd roared their approval. She slowly opened her eyes, her gaze drifting over the now visible arena floor. This was going to be a bitch, she thought._

The 3 foot deep arena was no doubt covered with sand along its base, Kara could see that clearly, but that wasn't the part that worried her. The entire pit had been flooded with water. The retracting of the floor had created small waves across its sleek surface and it spilled over the edges, the crowd laughing and screeching as the veered back from the invading water. Amiss the ambling crowd and harsh concrete Kara could almost pretend it was a shallow pool... Almost. After the initial shock wore off, a slight murmuring floated across the crowd. Looking over at Boy Wonder her competition, she saw the tiniest glimpse of confusion before a confident grin overtook his face. Stupid cocky prick, he had no inkling of what torture lay before him in the arena. Her gaze washed over the crowd, they were confused and from what she could tell, partially disappointed, they sought a challenge, wished for weakness, begged for blood. 'How could a kiddy pool provide this?' she could almost hear, knew the doubt was glinting through each and every mind. But Louie was a very smart man, the terms would no doubt provide the horror the crowd so desperately sought.

She waited for a moment, slightly angled towards the door behind her, eyes scanning, waiting for something. A minute passed and Kara's heart beat heavy with relief, no additional terms would be called for the match.

"Not like this wasn't going to be fucking hard enough," she ground out, fists balled at her sides. Kara guessed that even if she would receive a sword through draw she would not wish it, she did not need the added weight tonight.

A rising tremor flashed through the crowd and looking up, Kara saw that Mr. Cocky was undoing the hidden latch on the gate. Throwing a last charming smile at the crowd and an obvious wink at her, he slowly made his way down the concrete ladder. He gave a small heave and jumped down the last two steps, dropping into the water with a splash, sending rivulets of water overflowing towards the crowd. They screeched and hollered air thick with eager merriment; with greedy eyes they turned their attention towards her.

She gave her arms a last stretch and tightened her ponytail, cracking her neck she let out a deep breath. Placing her hands on the beam before her, she smirked. They wanted a show, she'd give them one. With a small push she heaved her upper body upwards; hovering over the bar she pulled her body upright. Muscles pulled tight and she held her body straight, a perfect handstand on the cold metal. The crowd screamed, thundering through the warehouse as she gave another calculated push and vaulted off the railing. Feet pounding into concrete she landed gracefully, crouched in a catlike stance, water splashing up around her.

The water was frigid, sending a light prickling sensation up her legs. Around her feet arouse swirling black clouds as the sand beneath her shifted. She stood, slowly unfurling her body and smiled. Mr. I'm So Fucking Fabulous, was inspecting his pants, brushing off wet sand that had hitched a ride on his way down. His face was comical really, slightly perturbed and annoyed as he reverently flicked off the coarse invading grains. Completing his task, he turned to his shirt and finding it immaculate, he bent down in the water to fiddle with his shoes, tightening the laces she guessed. She could hear a small gasp as he submerged part of his upper half in the icy water.

Rising a single arched eyebrow at the man before her, she waited. Perhaps he was waiting for an invitation... Kara had been raised a proper lady and she decided that it would be rude of her to not extend one. Taking a small step backwards she braced herself before taking a slight running jump, starting to come down before him, she kicked out her leg. She felt the harsh impact against his cheek, slightly off center due to the weight of water in her shoes, it had not landed at his nose where she intended but was satisfying none the last. Almost as if caught in slow motion his head reared back from the rest of his body, the intense force causing the rest of his body to follow as he was flung backwards into the water. She landed before him, water splashing around her once again, there falling sending small waves through the pit. He flailed around in the water, fighting his way to the surface he choked up water, gasping for breath. He took a few deep breaths and collected himself before narrowing his eyes, pure hatred radiating towards her and he forced himself into a standing position.

He struggled a touch in his attempt, clothes waterlogged and heavy he grimaced at his clothes. No doubt finally rethinking his, at the time carefully calculated, fashion choice. He frowned before pulling the long sleeve t-shirt over his head and tossing the heavy weight somewhere into the water behind him. The female percentage of the crowd was riveted, giggling and gushing as they contorted into seemingly uncomfortable positions for a better view of his exposed chest. Catching a perfect view from her position she had to admit he was okay looking, he wasn't anything special of course, just toned with slight definition. It seemed he worked hard on his abs, probably in front of the mirror. It didn't phase Kara though, a nice stomach was just that, nice but it was a toned upper chest and strong sculpted shoulders that really drove her wild. She shifted her gaze upwards, neither of which he possessed. Continuing with her rising gaze she almost choked on her laughter as she watched him throw a far worn look over his shoulder, eyes scanning the water in an attempt to identify where his shirt had landed.

"Awwwh," she pouted drawing his gaze, "just remembered it was dry clean only, huh?" The look on his face was priceless, her laughter bubbled over the surface escaping in soft giggles, he was almost torn in agreement with her.

Face contorting in silent rage he made a move to rush her, dragging his legs towards her, his stylish baggy sweatpants heavy and restricting. He reached a hand down and bunched the baggy excess material at his crotch in his fists, pulling it up as he moved through the water towards her.

"Tsk, tsk," she chortled, dancing away from him, "I'm only trying to be helpful, you know. Really," she smiled.

"Like this," she said dancing towards him and striking out a quick fist and pounding it into the side of his face, the exact site of her previous assault. It was already beginning to color, deep red with blooming hints of purple, "you should really get some ice on that, I mean it, it is NOT going to be pleasant tomorrow."

A cartoon bull fight, something out of Looney Toons and the Bugs Bunny and Tweety Show was how Kara would sum up Abercrombie's basic posture; you could almost imagine the black smoke puffs huffing from his flaring nostrils. He charged at her head on, starting off with a loud grunt as he took off, water droplets flinging from his wet waves. She moved off to the side but not quite fast enough, his anger hurled him by her clipping her right side and sending her tumbling into the concrete behind her. Her head hit the hard beams with loud metallic crack and for a moment the world darkened, black spots driving through her field of vision. She let her head fall back a touch, silently thankful she had ended up on the side wall opposite the screaming crowd. She shook her head slowly, vision returning to normal as a big shape waded towards her, and still fuming Hollister gave a crushing jab to her torso. Catching her in the upper section of her stomach, the wind whooshed out of her as she doubled over, wincing as she heard the slight popping crack of her ribs. His arm continued its course in her forward position and she bit back a scream as it collided with her shoulder. She pulled herself up and lifted her leg between them; she applied pressure to his groin forcing down on one knee. With an excruciating movement she twisted her body, bringing her foot on his risen knee and vaulting herself into the air. Biting back the pain she stretched her good arm above her head and with all that she could smashed her elbow into the soft crook between his neck and shoulder. Hair whipping around her painfully she landed with a thud on his other side and he crumbled into a heap against the wall.

She ambled away through the water and reaching a safe distance hunched over, resting a hand on her knee. She had bought herself a few precious moments. With her free hand she roamed her battered side, the taunt skin tender beneath her light touch. Her ribs were aching, each breath a battle with her lungs waging violently beneath her chest. Painfully cracked they would no doubt kill her for days but luckily they weren't broken or dislocated. She could fight through the pain, she'd long learned to deal with it and if need be push off to the side, it was a distraction she could live with. Hand roaming upwards to the warmth at the back of her neck she stopped, pulling it back it gleaming with red. Just fucking great, she fumed running her hands over her head, searching. She found the gash near the base of her head, halfway between her ear and ponytail, it wasn't that deep and the blood flow was slowly considerably.

She ran her hands through her wet ponytail, squeezing out the excess water. Fuck this, she thought and pulled the green elastic gently from her hair, twisting her long locks through her fingers she brought it up in a quick bun. The motion perfectly perfected from her days as a prima ballerina, it was no doubt in her mind that each hair was meticulous, a funny thing to be worrying about in her current situation.

Her head cocked upwards as a small fight broke out in the crowd before her, taking a small glance back at the bruised Lacrosse model she saw he was just beginning to stir. She turned her attention back to the crowd as two men broke through the throng and leant against the beam. Eyes trained on her wide with shock and racked with emotion, she could almost make out the array of curses that tumbled from their lips, all quite colorful and impressively multilingual. It was the boys from the bar she realized eyeing the still damp darkness of the Guinness stain on the lighter haired brothers pale jeans. Her eyes roamed upwards as they connected with his, a dizzying kaleidoscope of images flashing through her mind's eye, the reel spinning by too fast to derive any sense.

The splashing of water arose behind her and she broke her locked gaze with Connor, shaking the nagging feeling from her head she pivoted on her heel to face the man behind her. Rising from his crouched position he meandered towards her, the All-American Boy, bloodied and drenched, eyes dark. Strength returning with each heavy stride, rage bleeding out the thick weariness of limbs, his posture straightening as he moved still closer. His cheek was dark, a blossoming of color against the artificial bronze of his skin, traveling down his side to the burning rouge of his neck and shoulder. His side was scraped from where he fallen against the wall and his knee was beaded with blood from when it had been crushed into the ground, sand still clinging to the torn flesh.

He took a running leap and with his speed fueled by rage he collided with her body in full force. She had not anticipated the full body assault and was instantly knocked backwards, quickly sinking into the water beneath the crushing weight atop her. She choked on the water as it invaded her lungs, large thick hands coming up to close around her throat holding her in place. His grasp tightened as she struggled to free herself, fists pounding against his chest and she bucked and twisted. She made herself go limp beneath him and counted to five slowly in her head. Just as spots began to swim beneath her lids he released her, she counted another five excruciating seconds before allowing herself to break the surface. She gasped and coughed, fighting to dispel the liquid from her lungs. He stood a few feet away, back turned and arms held above his head, hollering for the roaring crowd. Slowly she racked in deep breaths, regaining her composure she stood, the crowd quieting at her steady rising.

"How gullible," she spat out her voice hoarse. He spun around to stare at her, eyes wide. She let out a bored sigh and looked at her nails intently, they were horribly chipped she noticed, what a shame. Her gaze lazily made its way to his face and she smirked, "men are just too eeeeasy. It's sad really."

She turned and gave a swift roadhouse kick to his abdomen, foot returning to the ground she quickly pivoted on her heel and brought her other leg up to whip across his face. He stumbled back, hands coming to his chest as blood poured from his nose, sending cascading rivulets down his face and into the water below. Red drops turned to pink ripples growing paler as they spread out, fading across the water's surface. Holding his nose he tried to staunch the flow of blood, applying pressure to the bridge he wiped his other hand across his face and bent down to wash away his bloodied hand. Launching forward he tried and failed to land a punch at her head, she danced away but he came at her fast, bringing a quick leg up he kicked her backwards. She tripped over her own feet as she fell, the movement twisting her body and sending her hard into the harsh edge of concrete along the arenas surface. She heard the agonizing crack as the pressure drove her shoulder from its socket, a cry tearing from her lips as she slumped against the beams.

A gasp was heard from behind her as a large calloused hand brushed away the loose hairs at the side of her neck, finger gently tracing the mark that resided there, "Kara."

Her head whipped around instantly, arm jerking painfully at her side. She reached up swiftly catching the hand in her gasp, eyes fuming until a flash of dark lines caught her eye. She stared at the word etched in black along the imposing hand and dropped it as if it were a blaze, quickly reaching out to snatch the right hand of the dark haired male beside him. A similar inking of black stared back at her.

The vibrant green of rolling hills, the feel of cobbled streets beneath her feet, the loud noise of drunken bar fights... The memories assaulted her senses all at once. Her mind flooded with a tangle of emotions and images, the realization shocking her system to the very core. The memories and sensations she had carefully bottled up inside her head long ago, smashed in that single instant, a flood gate pouring open with that one remembered name. Her eyes grew hazy and the world seemed to slow as she fell to her knees, the colorful memories flitted away and bringing forth an entirely new batch. A stream of dark and twisted nightmares clawing their way up to grab hold of her as she relived the past she had tried so hard to forget.

Her face rose up to meet theirs, eyes watering as she fought to keep her mask in place. A fist erupted from the stillness beside her; colliding with the side of her face it knocked her back into the space of reality. The world around her jumped back into motion, the force of the blow tearing her gaze from the brothers, breaking the stream of images. Her lip split and her face burned but it was nothing compared to the chaos that reigned within her mind. She tried to push it all back, to find those bottles she had so careful constructed to hold them in place. But they were nothing but shards now, sharp jagged pieces that forced themselves beneath her skin; it had been so long since she felt anything with every fiber of her being.

She stood up and wiped the blood from her lip, letting go she allowed all the chaos and pain to build up within her. If she couldn't lock it back up and empty her mind then she would use it. She gave the twins a last glance and cocked her head to the side, spitting out the blood that had begun to overflow her mouth, "Thanks for that, by the way," she called out to them. Then taking a step forward towards Mr. Oh So Smug, she gave herself over to the rage, allowing it to completely consume her.

ConnorxMurphy

"What the fuck does tha' mean?" Murphy ground out as she turned her back to them, "I mean we didn't really fuckin' do anything' now did we…"

Connor gave him a pointed look before looking down at Murphy's arm, where her bloody handprint still circled his wrist where she had grabbed him. Noticing the slick blood that covered his own fingertips from where he had grazed the tiny tattoo partially hidden beneath her ear. They both knew their realization had come at an inopportune time, though it had been an unintentional surprise to all of them, they had still distracted her long enough for that last punch to be completely on them.

They were jarred from their thoughts when a body slammed into the beams not far down from them. Kara's left arm was tucked in tight around her waist as she brought her leg up high and slammed it down into the Phantoms shoulder, his scream piercing the crowd as he doubled over in the water, blood still dripping from his nose as he gripped his shoulder. She made no attempt to slow as she jumped up on to the ledge and kicked off, twisting her body, arm still held tight against her, she lashed out with her leg again. This time it connected with his face and blood splattered across the concrete and over the water.

He lay unmoving in the water as she turned towards him. Grabbing him by the hair she shook him, pulling him up, she leaned him against the wall, "Come ooon Charlie Brown," she taunted kneeling down in front of him. She brought her good arm back and slammed it forward in to his face, "We were just starting to have fun." He fell over and once again she hoisted him up into a sitting position, pulling her fist back once more. The boy struggled to pull his arm up and once again her fist collided with his almost unrecognizable face.

"Fuck," Connor spat as he shoved the man closest to him out of the way.

Murphy followed his train of thought as they thrust their way through the mass of people who eagerly awaited the next blow, "She's goin' to fuckin' kill 'em."

They were able to force their way through the crowd just as her she began to pull back her bloodied fist once more. The boy had managed to raise his hand weakly into the air beside his head; unable to haul it up any further he lifted two shaky fingers, a sign of surrender. She either didn't notice or didn't care. Eyes wild and dark she shook out her fist before closing it yet again, a harsh look of determination evident across her face.

"Kara!" Connor shouted as Murphy swung a leg across the top beam. She stilled a moment as her head snapped up to meet his, "Look at him!"

She looked away and at the broken man that lay before her, she gasped the feral look leaving her eyes instantly. The announcer came on as she tumbled back a couple steps, horrified eyes still trained on the huddled bloody mass. The crowd erupted in cheers as the booming voice announced her victory. The boys watched as she winced, the jarring noise of the mob screaming there approval at the show of violence, she leant forward struggling to pull herself up.

"Ta hell with it," Connor spat as he braced his arm atop the steel and vaulted his body over the side. He landed in the pit with a splash as Murphy swung his other leg over and hopped down. Without a word they reached down to help her up, she cried out when Connor jostled her arm, "Dislocated it when—" was her only reply as whatever else she had been about to say caught in her throat with a dry sob. They managed to bring her to her feet and turned her around, following her lead as she nodded towards the far corner of the arena.

The entire match had lasted a mere ten minutes.

_**A/N;** Please, please review! I have an iphone and am constantly checking my email, whenever i get a review it makes me want to drop whatever i happen to be doing at the time and add to the story... (did i mention most of it is written in email form on my phone which i then email to myself? well i do, so i can quite literally write anywhere) So every review counts and fuels my desire to write! **hugs+kisses**_


	5. Chapter Five: The Dirty Glass

**A/N;** _Please no throwing heavy blunt objects! I know its been awhile and i'm sorry really. Ill make it up to you guys *heart* Promise X  
The chapter title, "The Dirty Glass" is a Dropkick Murphys song. Play it, love it, sing it, shout it to complete strangers!  
I'd also like to dedicate this chapter to _feedthecannibal, _the wonderful lass who caught the smallest of 'Black Donnellys' references, XO_

_Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own Connor and Murphy MacManus or the Dropkick Murphys. But i do have some CDs and DVDs! So in a way I own one carnation of them right? Its sorta the same a little bit... Kinda. In a way. Don't ye think?_

**Chapter Five;** The Dirty Glass

ConnorxMurphy

They led her out of the pit, easing her up the concrete steps crudely banged into the wall and through the gate she had effortlessly vaulted over not fifteen minutes before. As soon as they were on stable ground again she brushed off their help, putting a silencing hand up when Murphy went to open his mouth. When they reached the rusted steel door she had come through before she made a move to turn, a determined look on her face. The twins exchanged a quick look.

"Oh no, don't ye even think about it," Connor said before she could get out a single word.

She went to open her mouth when she was cut off again.

"Aye, there's no sense even wasten' your breath. Really. We're quite fuckin' stubborn when we want ta be," Murphy finished, a hard look on his face that drifted to a slight smirk near the end.

Connor gave her a pointed look and crossed his arms over his chest. Turning her head she could see that Murphy, who was leaning against the wall beside the door, carried a similar look. She huffed and let out an annoyed growl before turning and wrenching open the door.

Connor looked back at the arena, his gaze meeting the dark red stain against the concrete wall, a perfect outline. They were just now lifting the unconscious Phantom from the pit. Shoulders colored black already with half formed bruises, blood matted in his hair, dripping down onto his already caked chest.

Murphy interrupted his staring, "Fuck, did ye notice his ear?"

Connor looked hard at the body, his ears were partially covered with wet hair but from what he could see, they looked like the rest of him, blood soaked. Neither looked particularly interesting, "Aye? What about it?"

Murphy made a pained face before turning towards the door, "The last time I checked there was an earring dangling from it. But like I said, tha' was the fuckin' last time I checked."

Connor shuddered and with one fleeting glance back at the arena he followed his brother through the door, absentmindedly stroking his earlobe. He pulled the steel door behind him with a resonating bang as he stepped into the graffiti stone hallway, following the wet footprints that lined the floor. He could feel the dripping water on his legs and his pants were irritatingly stuck to him, he wished nothing more than to be able to tear of his jeans and pull on a pair of comfy jogging pants. That wish of course would have to wait but at least his feet were dry beneath his boots, thank God for small miracles. He stopped for a moment to shake out the cramp in his leg, the motion sending water flying through the air. His legs were both sore, more like burning really, from having waded through the water to get to Kara. He could only begin to imagine the pain she was probably in, he had only been in the arena for less than two minutes and his legs were ready to fall off.

As he neared the second door he heard a shout followed by his brother's aggravated voice, "Will ye just hold still for a fuckin' second?"

"We'll your fingers only prodding in an open wound you know."

He cleared his throat and said in a softer voice, "I know, an' am sorry... There's jus' a lot of blood 'ere..."

Connor pushed open the door and was taken aback by the sight of it all. It was small, filthy and covered in blood, a fatal hole in the wall trying to imitate a locker room. The worst part of it was Kara. She sat in the middle, legs over each side if the bench as Murphy examined the gash at the base of her head. Her hair was caked with dry blood that streaked down her back; her neck was covered in dark purple bruises, rapidly growing darker against her golden skin as if the hands still gripped her tighter. She turned to meet his gaze, lip split and swollen, the side of her face that invading shade if purple and one eye slightly filled with popped veins of blood. Her elbows were dark and cut up from her times smashed into the hard rough concrete walls. She was completely drenched and he knew that beneath her dripping clothes were hidden more dark horrors.

He had seen her in the area, her calculated force taken over by a silent violent rage. Her face may have been calm but her eyes had betrayed the vengeful storm that waged within her. She was so different from when he had last seen her, what had happened to that bright, carefree girl? He remembered the first time he had seen her she was younger then, nineteen, and was sitting alone at the pub. Her dark hair was just a pixie cut then, the layers flipped up coyly around her, her eyes that same dazzling green outlined in golden shimmer. She was tiny on that bar stool and so vividly perfect that the twins had sworn her a faerie.

He pushed back the image and forced himself to smile, "We're back in yer presence for a bloody moment and ye already got me brother acting all gentlemanly like."

Murphy looked up, shooting him a glare, "I'll have ye know that I'd be a right and proper gentlemen all the time," he gave a devilish smirk, "Well... Most o' the time anyways."

Kara let out a tinkling laugh and the groaned, pain rising to her features as she clutched her arm to her side.

Before any of them could move the door banged open and a heavy set man walked in, hair slicked back, beige suit pressed with a gold chain slung around his fat neck.

"Louie," Kara forced out between her gritted teeth, "What a pleasant surprise."

Louie smiled as be sauntered around Connor and towards Kara, sitting down near her on the wooden bench, "Well don't you look like a peach!" he laughed, voice deep and hoarse.

Connor took a step forward, eyes furious, fists clenching at his sides, he straightened his coat lapels, feeling the solid weight beneath his arm shift as he took a step forward. He caught Murphy's gaze, who shook his head and gave him a pointed look, calm the fuck down is what it said. He didn't like it but he loosened his posture just the same but took a few steps closer just in case, coming to stand a couple feet away from Murphy.

"So," Kara continued, voice hard and guarded, "Of what do I owe this audience?" Connor could almost hear the real question behind it in her tone, what the fuck do you want?

"Well, Kay... Principessa it seems my colleagues enjoyed your show so much they'd like to see you again. Twenty minutes," he said rising from his place beside her. She opened her mouth to retort but he cut her off with a hard look and words of her own, "My terms, my night's bella. I own you twice more after this and don't you forget that."

Murphy made to move and Kara's good hand reached back to hold him in place, wrapping around his lower leg, she nodded to Louie before he slipped out the door, leaving in a loud vibrating bang.

"Wha' the fuck was tha' about?" Connor said stepping over the bench to stand in front of her.

Murphy walked around and came to stop at her side, "Does he really need ta parade ye around and have ye fuckin' mingle with his clients when ye..."

"No," she interrupted him, "He doesn't."

They looked at her, puzzled expressions mirrored on either side of her.

She took a deep breath. "But his clients will sure be seeing me again, in arena in twenty minutes... I really do hope their finished with the water." she added as an afterthought. Her slight movements jostled her shoulder again and she was unable to stop the slight scream before it tore from her throat, her eyes watering.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," she heard Murphy grind out before they both dropped to their knees before her.

KaraMalcolm 

Closing her eyes to hold back the tears threatening to spill she hugged her arm to her side, teeth biting into her lip. A single tear escaped her efforts and streaked down her face. A strong and calloused hand cupped her face, his thumb gently wiping the traitorous tear from her cheek. She opened her eyes slowly, vibrant green meeting deep blue, Connors face level with her own. She reached her hand up and instead of cold air her hand connecting with warm flesh as strong hands grasped her arm. Her head turned towards Murphy as he reached a hand up towards her shoulder, the other resting at her wrist.

The hand on her face gently tugged her head back towards him, the other hand coming up to lock around the other side of her face, "Look a' me," Connor said softly as Murphys hand tightened at her wrist.

Once again she sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth and waited, eyes locked with Connors. She swallowed the scream this time, feeling her teeth break the soft skin as Murphy gave a hard pull and twisted, the crack reverberating through her entire body as her shoulder popped back into place.

Her eyes closed once more, blinking back tears as she turned towards Murphy, giving his hand a small squeeze before pulling it back. She gave him a small smile in thanks and turned her attention back towards the hands that still gently cupped her face.

For a moment she forgot where they were, falling out of time and back into the past she could never seem to forget. It was a different place and a different time, where she was whirling around a crowded dance floor laughing with the same blue eyes looking back at her. It was one of the highest points of her life, she had told herself she would cherish those months with all she had, come back and repeat them even, but then her life had changed. For awhile she held on to those memories, kept them safe and vibrant, calling on them often in the year that followed. But then her life had twisted into something dark and unrecognizable and it hurt too much to take out those thoughts again. It all seemed like another life. So she locked them up safe and tight so far back she almost thought they were dream.

"Kara?"

She broke out of thought to be met with questioning eyes and a once again Murphy was behind her tending her head wound, his hands gently prodding as they cleaned bits of sand that had managed to make their way there. With the concerned eyes and the careful hands behind her she could almost breathe again. It was a feeling she hadn't touched in very long time, feeling safe and taken care of and she wished it could go on forever but she wasn't about to tell them that. She was a big girl and she had gotten herself this far, she had long ago learned that she was the only one she could trust to take care of herself.

She stood up and both boys began to protest.

"Maybe ye should sit down until ye have ta go, rest a bit more," Connor started.

While Murphy let out an aggravated growl, "I wasn't fuckin' finished ye know!" until his face turned a touch softer and he said in a quieter voice, "I just don' want it ta get infected or reopen again..."

A part of her held on to their words, that much needed comfort, but another part of her pushed them away with all of its might. She didn't know which was stronger at the moment as they battled within her. In a few moments she would be in the arena again fighting for her life and all she would have is herself, she had to pull herself together.

"Look I've got to go back out there and if I sit any longer, I'm just going to start tightening up," at the look on their faces she decided to try another route, "I'm fine, really," she stressed then gave a small laugh, "Believe me I've had much worse."

Their eyes narrowed at her words and she knew she had said the wrong thing. Faces both contorted in rage, while Murphy's fists balled up tight and Connors jaw was flexed, his teeth clenched tightly together.

Before she could say anything to soothe them a loud bang sounded at the door. Kara turned away from them and walked over to the sink, squeezing her hair and wringing out the bottom of her shirt. Murphy stomped over and flung the door open revealing a young boy probably about thirteen. After glancing up at Murphy he recoiled back, visibly shaking at the dark anger that still clouded his face.

"Uhh… I, umh," he cleared his throat and looked down, shuffling his feet. He was probably a touch small for his age, with lightly tanned skin and a head filled with dark tight curls that stuck up everywhere in planned disarray. He wore a pair of ripped blue jeans and dark hoodie over a barely visible band t-shirt of some kind. Scuffed up black combat boots graced his feet and a black canvas backpack was slung over his shoulder.

"What?!" Murphy snapped.

The kid jumped about a foot in the air dropping the bag on his back. He bent down to pick it up and took a step backwards away from the door and Murphy's imposing figure. Eyes wide and terrified he stuttered out a couple nonsensical mumblings.

Murphy stared at the kid, shaking and jittering around in front of him, and his voice softened, "Are you alright? Or err… lost or something?" Kara heard Murphy ask.

Curious Kara leaned over from her place at the sink, finally able to see around Murphy she spotted the boy, "Murph!" he turned his head to look at her, "he's not lost, let him in."

Murphy nodded and stepped out of the way but the boy stood there unmoving, obviously still terrified. Murphy looked a touch drawn; she could tell he was feeling bad about scaring the boy. He scratched the back of his neck and scuffed the edge of his boot, "Uhh, it's alright, ye—"

She smiled and walked over, coming to stop beside the door, "Don't worry… his bark is worse than his bite, Danny boy."

Murphy made a face and seemed to be on the verge of protesting when he stopped and smiled when the boy timidly crossed over the barrier into the room. He stepped over to Kara, slipped the backpack off and handed it to her. No doubt she was grateful to see it, the thought had seriously just crossed her head but, "how did you…?"

He gave a small smile, "Uncle Bobby. He thought you might need it."

She smiled in return, that man seemed to have a sixth sense.

Before she could speak Danny started talking again, "… and umm, well I just… I heard some guys from the Office talking about the next match, I'm not sure what they have planned, but… well there draining the arena. I, uhh—just thought you should know. At least it not water anymore."

That was a sure relief, "Thanks, Danny boy. Now shouldn't you be on your way home already?" she chastised.

He smiled sheepishly, shuffling his boots again.

"I thought so," she said giving him a look. She smiled and pulled him into a hug, "Now go on, get your butt home."

He took a few steps back and gave her a lopsided smile before running off.

She smiled and pulled the bag up to her chest walking over to sit on the bench near Connor. The backpack was made of black canvas and if need be Kara could fit her entire life in there, it was fairly large but compactable with nearly a dozen pockets, inside and out. It had seen a lot of wear as she never went anywhere without it. In fact a couple hers ago the bottom corner and torn and she had been devastated, thinking that that was it but then Lacie had taken it in. She had clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes while going on about the stitching on the bag. Kara had to admit that at the time she was a little afraid for the fate of her poor bag, back then she hadn't known Lacie long but, that had all changed after she revived her bag back. She had stitched up the bottom, with 'trusty honest stitch work' she had called it and had lined the entire inside with a thick soft white fabric littered with dark and light green stars. On the very bottom she had added a different almost plastic-like fabric on the outside to 'keep it trustworthy' she had said. Not to mention that she had reinforced the straps added more pockets and a couple decorative green star patches on the outside. Now a couple years later there were some buttons and band patches sown to the front but the bag had never again ripped or come apart or let her down again.

She rifled through it now looking for any extra clothes she might have thrown in there and sure enough found an extra t-shirt. She stopped before she pulled it out upon realizing exactly which shirt it was, it just so happened to be her favorite shirt in fact. It was durable and simple enough and she'd had it for quite a long time, but did she want to risk it getting ruined in the arena? She shivered once more against the cold wet of her own clothing and realized she had no choice, besides she thought, if worse comes to worse Lacie could revive it. She hesitated once more before pulling it out, she wondered if the boys would remember.

Turning her back to them she pulled her soaked tank top over her head and pulled on the comfy, dry t-shirt before bending down to unlace her trainers. She pulled them off and set them on the bench before removing her soaks and squeezing them out, a stream of water spilling from her tightened fists. She got up and walked over to the hand dryer against the wall behind her, sighing before hooking her socks underneath and turning it on, there was no way they'd be dry in time.

She turned back towards the boys and watched as both their faces broke out in huge grins as they noticed her t-shirt; it seemed that hadn't forgotten much after all. She remembered buying it, well more accurately Murphy buying it after some cheap beer had been spilled down the front of her own shirt. They had gone to a Dropkick Murphy's concert in Dublin and it had been an amazing, the boys had teased her mirthlessly for not knowing the band but she had fallen in love with them after their first song, 'The Dirty Glass' she remembered. They were everything she loved about her trip to Ireland, the loud drunken bars, good natured rowdy boys, quaint cobbled streets and beautiful green scenery. They brought up some of the best memories she had and she listened to them regularly now. It was simple enough t-shirt, black and slightly fitted with the green 'Warriors Code' emblem on the front and a green Celtic cross along the top of the back. It had quickly become her favorite shirt after that night and she could never bear to be parted from it.

"Nice shirt," Connor said, smiling brightly beside her and she sat down again on the bench.

"Aye," Murphy said from his place leaning against the wall, "Where'd ye get somethin' tha' great?" he teased, a vibrant smirk across his face.

She pulled her knees up to her chest wrapping her hands around her tiny feet to keep them warm and gave him a smirk of her own, "Well, from Murphy, Murphy darlin' dear of course," she said imitating his accent causing Connor to laugh.

"But do ye still long for me now night and day?" he wiggled his eyebrows, twisting the song lyrics. He always loved that her favorite song, was about a man named Murphy, teased it was her secret longing for him shining though. The room was silent for a moment before they all burst out laughing.

"Don't ye know it." She winked.

She removed her hands and rubbed them together vigorously before wrapping them back around her feet, the hand dryer went off and she went to get up before Murphy put a hand out, stopping her.

"I got it," he said walking over to turn the dry on once again.

"'Ere," Connor said from beside her, handing her a pair of thick black socks. She opened her mouth and then closed it again; he had taken off his boots and removed his own socks for her to wear. He had been quiet for the last little bit, no doubt lost in thought about everything. Between the both of them she knew Connor was the thinker and well Murphy, was Murphy. He pretty much had his own category she mused.

At her surprised look Connor smiled, "Don' worry there relatively clean, promise."

She was shocked at was about to protest when he gave her a stern look with a tilt of his head. She smiled instead and took them pulling the warm socks over her tiny frozen feet.

A loud came at the door once more and it opened a second later, the same curly haired man as before sticking his head in. A sniveling smile atop his face he looked about ready to utter some ridiculous remark no doubt, when he caught sight of the twins and paled considerably. Instead he cleared his throat and in the politest voice she'd ever heard come from him said, "Five more minutes, Kay," and disappeared behind the rusty door.

She pulled on her damp trainers and got up, "I guess I'll be going," she paused then continued; "Is there anything I could say that would get you to stay here and…" she stopped at the looks on their faces, "I didn't think so."

**A/N;**_ Love it? Prove it. Review. hugsxkisses._ XO


	6. Chapter Six: When Has Life Been Fair?

**A/N:** _Yes im a terrible terrible person, who deserves to be flogged. Life has been considerably hectic but I'm not going to give you any excuses cause quite frankly I don't think I've got any quite good enough. Now this chapter is more like a slight teaser, I just desperately wanted to get something out there to let you all know i was alive. I'lll have the rest up with 24hours [more likely less then 12hours actually but I won't get cocky] promise X_

_Disclaimer: Nope, the MacManus are not my property. I don't own them... for the time being they still belong to the genius Troy Duffy._

**Chapter 6;** When Has Life Ever Been Fair?

KaraMalcolm

She lifted her bag and then hesitated half way, weighing it over in her head, there was no fucking way she could leave it alone on the bench outside and she would never leave it alone in here. The decision was made for her when a hand wrapped around her own and lightly pulled the bag from her grasp, "I've got it," Connor said nodding to her.

She gave him a small smile and finished wringing out her damp hair. Damn it, what to do? She had forgotten about her wet hair. She sat and ran her fingers through her hair, de-knotting it the best she could. When she was satisfied she twisted it back, fluidly began braiding it back into a long dark plait. She hesitated for a moment then decided the hell with it, fuck Louie and what he wants, if he wants to mess with rules and loopholes then so could she. When she was finished the braid she twisted it once more, this time into a knot at the base of her neck.

Smoothing out any kinks along the crown she thought about the possibilities of what the next few minutes would bring, about a few dozen scenarios dancing across her mind, each one more gruesome than the last. No, she thought decidedly as she twisted a loose strand into the braided knot, there was no time to think of the "what-ifs" whatever she was faced with out there, she would take on with all she could. She was not in great shape, sure she'd see worse, hell she'd seen a HELL OF A LOT worse, but she knew with the burning exhaustion of her muscles that she wouldn't be able to keep it up for long. So she would just have to get out there and get it done as quick and hard as she could, no more worrying about the state of others or else she'd be the one they'd have to scrape up off the floor.

Content with her decision and satisfied that her hair was successfully contained she got up and stretched out her arms, cracking her neck from side to side she turned to the brothers, "I guess it's time to rock this shit."

With that said she spun on her heel and walked out of the room with a loud thunderous bang.

ConnorxMurphy

They watched her walk out head held high, mind set and determined she was quite the force to be reckoned with.

"What tha' hell happened ta her, Con?" Murphy said the echo from the slamming door washed throughout the room.

"I dunno," Connor sighed as they walked towards the door, "But I do know tha' I aint lettin' tha' girl fall down any farther 'en she already has."

Murphy nodded as he pulled open the door, "Fuckin' amen to tha'."

They walked back down the stone hallway, the sound of their boots muffled by roar of the crowd just beyond the door. They neared the end to find Kara standing before the closed door, "Well boys, I'll catch you on the flip side."

_**A/N:** Reviews feed the soul. Hate mail is accepted and not to mention quite anticipated. I do deserve quite the lashing._

_- I know its terrible short but there'll be more up later today. Promise!_


	7. Chapter Seven: A Flashing of Steel

**A/N:** _And here it is as promised:)_

**Chapter 7; **A Beating of Fists, A Flashing of Steel

_They walked back down the stone hallway, the sound of their boots muffled by the roar of the crowd just beyond the door. They neared the end to find Kara standing before the closed door, "Well boys, I'll catch you on the flip side."_

KaraMalcolm

The blast of light and sound that hit her from the other side was staggering, the Panasonic Dolby digital high-def surround sound of the mob in all its glory. It seemed all too played out, too perfect. The stark smell of sweat and alcohol, vomit and blood mixed in with the industrial tang of steel floating down from the high cold ceiling. The clatter and clamor of the crowd in its bright sea of colors, grinding and gyrating, screaming and cussing as they fought and laughed, still calling out bets and reliving the last soiree. They were a living breathing entity, an electrical current, a live wire dancing dangerously on the edge of water... and she was their conductor. The lead actor playing out her part to a tee. It was the archaic violence that fueled them, the pounding of flesh and the painting of blood, brutal unleashed mortality at its finest.

Straightening her back and squaring her jaw she walked towards the jeering crowd, swallowing the pain that racked her body with each step. Fast, she told her herself over and over again, forget about Louie and his rules and his terms, this wasn't about pleasing the crowd anymore.

Walking to her bench she rested her hands against the steel beams, not allowing herself a moment to sit. Looking down over the revealed arena, she thanked that Danny had been correct in his assumption. Gone was the water, leaving the arena coated with wet sand, bloody beautiful, she breathed, her aching muscles would not have tolerated the further burn.

Directly across from her stood her opponent, hands behind his back, stance straight. He was average height, a muscled jarhead with a serious calculated look. She'd seen that look on that of her father a few times over the year, the look of a trained soldier. He was ex-military for sure. For a moment her heart went out to him, she knew it was a hard life to leave behind, training your whole life to be a well-oiled part in an American machine, order and structured sense. She understood the burden. If things had been different, if she was out for a night on the town she had no doubt that she would talked to him, batted her eyelashes and flirted easily. She shook the thought from her head because things weren't different.

It seemed all but the arena's Primus was present and accounted for. Nothing left to do but wait. "C'mon Louie," she whispered, eyes searching the curtained boxes, "What are you waiting for?"

After another gruesome final minutes the speakers crackled with a coming announcement as the host stepped out from amiss the crowd. A quieted excitement fell over the warehouse as the crowd almost seemed to be holding its breath.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" he drawled out as if announcing a televised sports event, "In my one corner we have the return of 'The Lovely K'..." he paused a moment as the crowd let loose its deafening noise once more.

He gave it a couple minutes before he put his hands up and motioned for the crowd to settle down, "And in the opposing corner we've got ourselves a first timer. I give you 'Beach Head.'

Kara couldn't help but smile a little as the crowd erupted around them, yeah, they would have gotten along wonderfully.

"Now how about we make these things a little more interesting huh," the announcer leered, fueling the current, "What do you say?"

The crowd roared louder then it had all night frantically calling for the hat.

"No," Kara paled, any hint of the previous smile dropping from her face, "No, no. Please no."

Beach Head gave her a quick look almost as if he'd heard her before he then returned his attention to the host, head cocked slightly to the side in apparent confusion.

A large gladiator helmet could bee seen weaving its way through the throng of excited bodies, a scantily glad girl in a white barely there toga stepped out in front of the arena. A smile plastered to her face, bronze skin aglow beneath her poof of vibrant peroxide hair. She was just too skinny, Kara thought but that of course didn't stop the catcalling and reaching hands from the men around her.

The host wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in close, winking at the crowd, "Why thanks doll."

He took no time stuffing his hand in the dark helmet and riffling through the wound up pieces of worn brown leather. He pulled out a single piece of cloth and held it up before the crowd before focusing his attention on her, "Well then, ladies first," he called out before he opened up the tie.

"Ooh, poor luck doll..." he signaled to one of the men nearest her.

"Fuck."

The man returned and handed her a pair of small black leather fingerless gloves, slightly padded. She was screwed of course but she supposed it would serve to protect the knuckles of the hands from splitting. Yeah, thats good Kay, stay positive.

She pulled on the gloves as the announcer busied himself opening the next slip.

A short cruel laugh sounded through the speakers as he motioned to another of the men on the opposite side.

"Well everyone, lets just say things have just gotten quite brutally interesting."

A gleam of silver shone through a large wrapped black parcel as it was shoved into Beach Head's open hands. The crowd seemed to hold its collective breath as he slowly peeled away the dark cloth. The silence didn't last long as they screamed and hollered in approval.

His head snapped up, wide brown eyes connecting with hers as the cloth fell from his hands and pooled around his feet.

She was royally fucked beyond belief.

"Contestants to the ring," a grating voice called out.

She hoisted herself over the beams, allowing her body to drop into arena. Sand crunching beneath her feet as she straightened out her body. Eyes still locked with Jarhead. She'd barely felt the fall into the pit. Her body had grown numb, pain was no longer an option. She had always welcomed the dull ache of pain, had used it to keep her going throughout the long years. It had been an indication of life. A constant reminder of feeling, a breathing trophy of her humanity, the mark of a survivor. It had all disappeared within an instant, was she even alive?

Captain America was given a push forward from the crowd, breaking the connection between them. His knee lifted up and thrust back into the man behind him, his think boot covered sole connecting with a flat stretch of shin. The man dropped to the floor instantly paralyzed with pain, the crack reverberating through the warehouse. A quick glance back sent the crowd reeling, scuttling backwards in hopes of getting farther away.

Kara stared at him transfixed, unclear of what to make of what she had just witnessed. His reverse kick had been calculated and filled with power and seemingly rage though none shone through onto his face. The only indication of his fury was the hard set to his jaw as he stared at the piece of steel in his hands. Was he upset with the mismatched odds? It baffled her. Anyone else would have relished in the favorable win at terms.

He seemed to come to some decision as he swung the blade in his hands, slicing through the air with a piercing whistle before tucking it in close and bounding over the railing. He fell down into a crouched position the doubled-edged blade extend from his arm. With a wink she could almost swear she had imaged he flung the sword through the air, it dug itself into the sand about ten feet from where they stood much to the shock of the entire auditorium.

Her mouth dropped open before lifting into a small smile, "You really are a Joe aren't ya?"

His cold facade dropped as he blinked in surprise.

She laughed at his expression, "Don't worry Wayne I can bet ya that I'm pretty much the only one in here we picked it up."

"Well, well," he nodded approvingly, his voice hoarse but strangely smooth. He lifted an eyebrow, "What say we dance Lady Jaye?"

"Lets."

They advanced towards one another, feet crossing over the other, circling, looking for an in, a break in defense. Fists lifted and curled in front of her face she shifted her weight on to her back foot, tensed down and lashed out with a roundhouse kick. He caught in his raised hand and pushed her away. Using the momentum she spun around, tucking her leg in tight before springing out her fist and lashing with her leg swiftly one after the other. He was only able to block one and her leg connected with his side.

Still grasping her arm he pulled her in and tucked his elbow under the crook of her neck, flipping her over and backwards in one swoop. They came at each other again and again, defense and offense, block and attack. They seemed to dance across the sand, perfectly synchronized, eyes alight as they sparred.

He smiled as he got the upper hand, knocking her onto her back, "Yo Joe!" she yelled as she bucked in attempt to free herself.

She huffed and he smirked, "Suck it up, marine."

"But you're hurting me," she pouted.

He loosened his grip slightly and it was just enough for her to bring her leg up and hook it around him, sending him tumbling backwards. She laughed as their. positions became reversed. "Awh, don't tell me you're going soft on me Small Soldier."

The fighting was real enough but much too amicable for the Arenas prospects as the crowd grew bored and rowdy, a few beginning to drift away from the pit.

Kara knew something was wrong when the ground began to vibrate beneath her feet.

**A/N: **References:

Beach Head, also known as Wayne Sneeden is a character from the cartoon/movie/comics G.I. Joe. The operatives are usually called 'Joes'

Kara obviously catches on to the name and they play on it etc,. the phrase "Yo Joe!" and Beach Heads use of Lady Jaye, another character from the series.

Lastly if you couldn't tell they have both previously had Marine training, [Kara from growing up with her father] and are very closely matched.

- if theres any other questions are things that seem unclear feel free to leave me a message or review and ill get back to you:)

**The more reviews the faster i'll update.** xo


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